Second Christmas in Camelot
by canon balls
Summary: Arthur and Morgana get their own Christmas miracle.


**Second Christmas in Camelot**

A/N: Happy Holidays, everyone!

I got this idea at the last minute, so I wrote it late last night and am posting it today. It hasn't been beta'd, or really edited (even by me), so I apologize for all mistakes. Considering it is a Christmas story, I thought it more important I get it out there before the actual holiday was over, ha ha. All of you out in fanfiction land are probably not spending today or tomorrow on the internet reading stories, but if you are, I hope you enjoy. And if you are reading this after Christmas, I hope you can still enjoy.

This is for all the lovely people who have "favorited" me or my stories, who have made such kind comments, who have followed me even though it takes me years to write anything, and for the lurkers who read and love and keep it to themselves. You all are the reason why I do this.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, but then, I don't really think the BBC does either.

Also, I have not watched past the beginning of Season/Series 2, because that's when the show ruined my favorite couple. So any conflict my stories create in their timeline is for this reason. I'm glad if it does. I prefer my world.

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_O Star of wonder, star of night  
Star with royal beauty bright  
Westward leading, still proceeding  
Guide us to thy Perfect Light_

_-We Three Kings_

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Morgana tickled her son's round little belly, as he lay on his back upon a thick fur before the hearth. A huge fire blazed, keeping the young prince warm on the cold winter's day. Light flickered across his delighted face, his legs kicking up in glee as his mother's fingers danced upon his tummy. His gurgle of happiness brought a smile to Morgana's face, though her eyes remained shadowed with sadness.

"He is the most wonderful baby, Your Highness." Gwen smiled over Morgana's shoulder at the infant.

Scooping him up to nuzzle his neck, she agreed. "Yes, Mordred is the most wonderful baby. He gets his temperament from me." She laughed at her own joke, and Mordred reached up and clutched her nose with a cubby fist. "But he gets his grip from his father."

Looking down at her child, Morgana felt the ever-present pain of Arthur's absence even more keenly, like a knife slicing open an old wound. Everyone said Mordred had her looks, but she saw so much of his father in him. His hair was dark, but silky and straight like Arthur's. His light eyes were more blue than gray, and getting darker in color every day. He had Arthur's square chin, and full lower lip. Yes, Arthur's face was in his five-month-old son's. As he would be the first to point out.

But of course he could not, as he was away. Fighting an enemy that had attacked a village on the western edge of Camelot, before they escaped back to their stronghold. Arthur had taken his army to pursue and punish a foe who was foolish enough to attack Camelot, and even more foolish to attack in winter, when the weather made fighting even more difficult. Something about this unusual occurrence didn't sit well with Morgana. Something was wrong about it; she just couldn't pinpoint what it was.

In Arthur's absence, she ruled in his stead as Regent, and tried to make herself as visible as she could. She would much rather be playing with her son in her private solar in the Royal Apartments, but was instead in the Great Hall, with servants and soldiers alike bustling about her, her presence giving them all a sense of security.

Morgana shifted Mordred to her shoulder, rubbing a hand soothingly up and down his back as she placed a kiss upon his head. "Just wait until you and Merlin have one, Gwen. You'll think he or she is the most wonderful baby in the world." Gwen giggled as Morgana winked at her.

"Your Highness."

Startled, Morgana clutched her baby to her chest. Mordred let out a squeak of protest, and she quickly loosened her grip. A soldier covered in mud and grime stood respectfully a few feet away, a rolled parchment in his hand. Morgana had been so wrapped up in her child, she hadn't seen him approach, but he hadn't meant to startle her. She'd just been in her own world for a moment.

"Yes, William, what is it?" Morgana recognized Arthur's personal messenger.

"A missive from the King. A personal one."

Morgana turned and handed Mordred to Gwen. "Please take the prince back to Nurse."

"Of course, my Lady." Aware of their audience, Gwen bobbed a quick courtesy, and left the hall with the baby. William bowed and handed over the parchment roll.

"Would you like me to wait for a reply, Your Highness?"

Morgana was already moving to sit in a chair by the fire, untying the roll as she went. "Yes, William, but it will be a while. Please go and have some food and drink, relax in the Hall. I will send for you when I have a missive."

William bowed again, and said, "Of course, Your Highness," before turning away, but Morgana didn't notice. She was already staring at her husband's bold scrawl upon the paper, running her fingertips lovingly across the words.

"_My Love,_

_I imagine you playing with our son in front of the fire, and I long so desperately to be there with you both this Christmas that I almost believe I can be, if only in my mind's eye. What a difference a year makes. I can remember feeling so desperate to give you the perfect gift for our first Christmas that I botched it up. What I wouldn't give to have that problem now._

_The siege of the past few weeks has not resulted in any progress. When we pursued the enemy back into their fortress, I felt sure we would starve them out in a matter of days. In truth, I do not comprehend why we have not, as it is winter, and their meager stores should have run out by now. It is not as though this is a rich province, and the amount of people we believe they have in their stronghold should have depleted them within the first two weeks. Now this siege is in its fifth week, and they have shown no move to parley or fight. I must therefore conclude that they have some kind of tunnel system, which allows them to leave at night under the cover of darkness to forage. Why they have not used these tunnels for attack or to escape, I do not know. We can see from our position and from our scouts that most of their soldiers are still within the fortress, and so as I write this letter, we are moving archers and catapults into position of attack. My men are hungry, this cold weather takes its toll on us all, and some are ill. We cannot afford to wait much longer. Tomorrow we will send a heavy barrage over their walls. And if that does not drive them out, we will scale the walls and fight. Something is not right here, my love, and I wish I had your wise counsel to tell me what it is that I cannot see. I am uneasy with an illogical enemy that seems in no hurry to do anything. What was even the purpose of their initial raid? When they took nothing, only killed peasants and burned the village? But perhaps I am over-thinking this, as I can almost hear you say._

_I wanted you to know that if this battle does not go as I plan, and I do not make it back home, that I have loved you for all my life, and will beyond its end. With our son to inherit, and you to watch over the kingdom until he does, I have no fear for Camelot. Only to be separated from you. _

_But I am confident that our strategy will work, and my men and I will be home by Christmas, to spend it with our families. It is only this strange feeling I have of uneasiness that makes me write this letter at all, and I'm sure it will all come to nothing. _

_As you go to sleep tonight, imagine my kiss goodnight, and I will do the same, and it will be as if we are together. Until we can be again, my love, I will take my leave._

_Arthur"_

Unaware of the tears making tracks down her face, Morgana clutched the letter to her breast as she practically ran from the hall, no longer caring about appearances. She ran up the circular stairs to the Royal Apartments, and burst through the door to her personal solar. She set Arthur's missive upon a small table, and then went to a trunk in the corner. From it she drew a shallow silver bowl, which she placed upon the letter. Grabbing an ewer of water from a sideboard, she poured the liquid into the bowl. She then took two candles from the chest, lit them, and placed them on either side of the bowl. Gazing into the still surface, her eyes glowing amber, the water began to swirl, and Morgana chanted to herself. But to her shock, the scrying bowl showed her nothing. The water was cloudy, and refused to enlighten her. Dread settled upon her shoulders. This had never happened before. Something must be wrong.

She returned to the Great Hall, and sought William out. She'd written back to Arthur, urging caution, and telling him she had not been able to see the outcome of his battle. He must take every precaution, perhaps even delay the attack, until things became clear. Morgana had no idea if the missive would even reach Arthur in time, but she had to do something. William promised to return to his king with all possible speed, and set out right away. With a heavy heart, knowing she could do no more, Morgana sought out her son in the nursery to say goodnight, before she went to bed. And imagined her love kissing her goodnight.

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"Arthur!"

Morgana woke herself up screaming her husband's name. She'd sat bolt upright in the bed, and her heart was racing.

She'd been dreaming, and she'd seen Arthur fall. The enemy had indeed been treacherous. The whole thing – the raid, the siege – had all been part of a plan to draw the king out where they could attack him. When the barrage of catapult and arrows had failed, Arthur made to scale the walls and fight. But before he could, the enemy had used the tunnels to grow their numbers and move about. They emerged behind Arthur's lines, trapping him against the walls of the castle. A fierce battle commenced, and though Arthur's knights were outnumbered, they were the best fighters in the world, and they managed to beat the enemy back. However, before they could route them into the woods, the crafty enemy succeeded in its plan to target Arthur, and separated him from his knights. A fierce warrior himself, Arthur fought back as best as he could, and made it to the wood before he was mortally wounded, run through his gut with a broadsword. Morgana had felt the cold steel slide between his plates of armor, even as he cut the head off the man who stabbed him. This is what had awoken her, screaming in fear.

A guard rushed into the room, afraid the Queen was being attacked. Gwen, who was used to her mistress's night terrors, no longer slept in the adjoining room since her own marriage to Merlin. But since Morgana had married Arthur, she'd no longer been troubled by her prophetic dreams. Until now.

"Your Highness?" the guard asked. "Are you well?"

Her heart racing, Morgana fought to calm herself. She was given the dream for a reason, hopefully to help her husband. She refused to believe it was too late.

"I am not. Please gather Merlin and five knights, and meet me in the courtyard in fifteen minutes. We ride to the King."

The guard was puzzled. Was the Queen still asleep? Did she require the assistance of her maid? He was unsure what to do, as the Queen did not appear in need of his defense. "My Lady?"

"Do it!" Morgana snapped, already getting out of bed and digging through a chest for clothes. "Merlin, men, horses. Now!"

The guard scrambled from the room, off to do her bidding, no longer caring if she was in her right mind or not. He was issued an order, and was going to carry it out.

Holding back tears, Morgana dressed herself as quickly as she could, then stuffed what little medical supplies she had into a satchel. Merlin had much more knowledge of that sort of thing than she did, and hopefully he was bringing what he could. She knew that he would have some knowledge that Arthur was in trouble, and would be ready when she was to ride to Arthur's aide. She refused to believe they were too late.

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Merlin had an uneasy feeling, but not the intimate knowledge that Morgana had about Arthur. As he, five knights and Morgana galloped as fast as their horses would carry them to the west, he began to wonder if he was doing the right thing. Five men were no protection against an army of rebels, if they happened to blunder into the men Arthur had been fighting. Indeed, no one knew exactly where they were going. They'd been headed west all day, but now that it had turned to night, they had not seen nor heard any army – from either side – and were just going on Morgana's instinct. But he'd taken one look at her face when she'd come into the courtyard last night, and knew he could not gainsay her, no matter the consequences. If they found Arthur's camp, and his king was hale and hearty, and prepared to rip Merlin's ears off for allowing Morgana to ride into dangerous territory for nothing, he would handle it. In fact he would dearly love for that to be the case, for though he hadn't seen what Morgana had, the longer they had ridden, the deeper his uneasiness had grown.

There was no moon, but there was a little starlight in the clear sky for them to see by. It was a rare night with no rain or snow in December, though it was bitterly cold. The hoarfrost lay in needle-like crystals on the frozen ground. The horses were tired. The men were cold. Perhaps it was time Merlin stepped in.

Just as he was about to speak up, he heard a shout, and their party was surrounded by knights on horseback. Certain they were about to die, Merlin pulled up his horse to a halt, the others following suit. Morgana had a terrifyingly resolute look on her face, and Merlin feared she might do something to endanger herself, in her attempt to get to Arthur.

"Ho!" a knight shouted. "If you are the enemy we seek, you will swiftly meet your deaths! Identify yourselves!"

Merlin let out his pent up breath in relief. He recognized the voice of Sir Bors. They'd managed to run right into Arthur's men. Thank God.

"Bors, you blowhard, it is I, Merlin, and Queen Morgana."

Someone had a torch that was shoved into Merlin's face. He blinked back the smoke and sudden light that made his eyes water.

Bors retorted, "What the bloody hell are you doing out here, Merlin? Oh, pardon, Your Highness."

"Bors," Morgana said before Merlin could reply. "I must see the King immediately. It is most urgent. Please, take me to him."

Merlin's eyes had adjusted, and could see the small party of knights that had circled up protectively around them. There also seemed to be more starlight to see by, and he could make out the grim look on Bors's face.

"I'm sorry, my Lady, I cannot do that. There was a battle today, and the King…" Bors stopped, and cleared his throat. "The King was separated from us and surrounded. We have not seen him since. We…know not what has become of him. There has been no ransom, indeed we have not seen any of our enemy since." He looked away from Morgana's anguished face to Merlin. "We have been searching for him since the battle ended a few hours ago."

Morgana backed her horse out of the circle, and was staring out toward the west. Bors looked at her in sympathy, and lowered his voice to speak to Merlin's ears alone. "We fear the worst, Wizard. There is no way he could have survived the fighting, he was outnumbered. We can only hope they took him for ransom. We've been awaiting that. And we've been searching for…for a body." Bors, the toughest man Merlin had ever met, had a bleak look in his eyes.

"How did it happen, Bors? It seems so inconceivable that Arthur was outflanked."

Bors shook his head. "Damn buggers popped out of the ground like daisies. Never seen a tunnel system like they must have had. Would have taken years to dig. They had much bigger numbers than we thought, and they weren't interested in us, just getting to him. But we fought back, sent most of them to the devil. Enough got through, though, to go after Arthur. Last anyone saw of him was at the edge of the wood. That's why were are patrolling here."

Merlin nodded. It was just like Morgana had said. He glanced over at her, just in time to see her kick her horse and take off toward the west. "Morgana!"

He spurred his horse after her, as did the rest of the knights. She was headed straight into the wood, and was looking up at something for guidance. Merlin looked up to see what she saw, and almost fell off his horse. It was a star, a single star, shining a beam of light down into the trees.

"Do you see that?" Merlin pointed at the star. Bors looked at him like he'd lost his mind, and the other knights had a similar look on their faces. "See what?"

Merlin realized no one could see it but he and Morgana. Was it magic?

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Morgana raced on, following the star's light, certain it was leading her to Arthur. If she was to find him alive or dead, she dared not contemplate, for to do so would cripple her.

As she entered the wood, she was forced to slow down, or risk breaking her neck in a fall. She had to carefully guide her horse among the trees, over logs and rocks, but the light from the star easily penetrated even the thick canopy of leaves. It showed her a path, like a guide with a torch, which she followed unquestioningly. She heard the mutterings of the knights behind her, all but Merlin believing she was crazy and going to get them all killed. But she didn't care. She had to get to Arthur before it was too late.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, but in reality had only been a few minutes, the light stopped moving. It shone down upon a cave, its twinkling light above illuminating an overgrown entrance that would have been invisible in the dark. Indeed it was, to the knights now surrounding her.

"What is it, Your Highness?" Bors asked. "Are you ready to stop now?"

Already sliding off her horse, she ignored Bors. "You see it, don't you, Merlin?" She grabbed her pouch containing her supplies, and started for the cave.

"Aye, Morgana, I do." He dismounted as well.

"See what?" Bors asked, his patience at an end. "What the bloody hell is going on?"

"Arthur is in a cave just up ahead." He threw out an arm, energy emerging from his fingertips to freeze the knights in place when they moved to follow Morgana. "Wait here. There is nothing you can do, but keep guard. The Queen is the only one who can help him now." Merlin didn't know why, he just knew the truth of the words he spoke. And though they were angry, the knights could do nothing against his power, and so they all settled in to wait.

Morgana ran through the trees and underbrush. Her heart was thumping out of her chest. What would she find in the cave? Was he alive? Surely she'd feel it if he were dead, wouldn't she? Wouldn't her heart cease to beat as well?

The light was so bright now, it was as if day had returned. As Morgana entered the cave, she felt as though she was walking through a wall of water, though she remained dry.

"_Fear not. For, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy." _

Startled at the clear, loud, feminine voice, Morgana looked around the cave for the source. There was no woman inside. But she did see, over in a dark corner, a body in armor slumped against the rock wall, dirty blond hair somehow gleaming in the light.

With a cry of anguish and relief, Morgana ran to her husband. With trembling hands, she drew off her gloves, and cupped her fingers around his face to tilt his head up to her. His skin was ice cold, though it was warm in the cave. She tenderly brushed his hair away from his eyes, but there was no flicker of response.

"My darling, it is I." She pressed kisses to his closed eyelids. "Morgana."

There wasn't so much as a twitch. Frightened, Morgana pulled back and looked him over. It was then she noticed the pool of blood she was kneeling in, congealed by the cold and dirt. Vividly remembering the feeling of being gutted, she gently laid Arthur down flat so she could examine him. She pulled off the plates of armor, and saw the gash in the chain mail beneath. Blood gleamed on the dull metal rings, bits of torn flesh visible. It was a horrible wound. How he'd managed to drag himself into the cave, she had no idea. For she knew from her vision that he had not fought in here, but must have sought refuge.

Her shaking fingers traveled up to his neck, where she felt for a pulse. Nothing. Refusing to believe it, she put one hand on his chest and another under his nose to feel for a breath. Nothing. She shook him, crying out his name desperately. Nothing.

"Arthur!" she shouted. "Arthur, come back to me. Wake up, please!"

Nothing.

She collapsed on his muscular chest, sobbing. It couldn't be. He couldn't be dead. Why was she shown her vision, brought here, if she could do nothing? Was it just to find his body? Could the gods be so cruel?

"_Fear not."_

Morgana raised her head. There was the voice again. Her eyes were drawn to the wall of light at the entrance to the cave. And she thought she saw there, faintly, the outline of a woman. A woman with wings. But she blinked, and then she saw it no more.

But the voice was right. Fear accomplished nothing. If Arthur was dead, she would simply bring him back again.

Determined, Morgana concentrated, pulling all her magical energy inside herself, coiling it into a ball of light in her core. Her eyes pulsed amber with power. When she felt it was strong enough, she sent it spiraling out into Arthur's wound, knitting, repairing, sealing the torn flesh and bone. Beads of sweat dotted her brow with the effort it cost her, but when she'd managed to heal his wounds, she sent the light to strengthen his remaining blood. And then finally to summon his soul.

"Arthur," she whispered into the ethers. "Return to me. 'Tis I, Morgana. You are needed here. Return to me. Return."

When her light was gone, when the light from the star winked out, leaving the cave in hushed darkness, when she had done all she could, she gently laid across his body. If he was gone, so too would she stay until she was allowed to join him.

But the broad chest under her cheek began to rise and fall. A breath stirred the hair on the top of her head. Afraid to believe it, Morgana lifted her head to try and see his face, even though it was now too dark to do so. "Arthur?" she tentatively asked.

And got a gravelly response. "My love."

"Arthur?" She grabbed his shoulders, and pressed her cheek to his now warm flesh. "My darling? Are you alive?"

"'Course I am, damned hard to talk otherwise."

Overjoyed, she laughed at his response, kissing his face all over. The truth was, he had been dead, and somehow she'd been able to bring him back. With a little help.

"Thank you," she whispered into the darkness.

"Whom are you thanking?" Arthur groaned, and she could see in the dimness of the cave that he pushed himself up to sit propped against the wall, much the same way he'd been when she'd found him. "God's teeth, I'm sore."

"Well, you were dead from a mortal sword wound." She carefully moved to his side, her arms holding him and his coming around to hold her. She closed her eyes in terrible relief.

"What happened?"

She explained to him, starting with the dream, and ending with the voice telling her not to give in to fear.

"I think…well, I think it may have been an angel," she said. "You'll think I've gone mad, but I swear I saw a woman with wings."

Arthur was so quiet, Morgana was afraid he'd passed out. "Arthur?" She reassuringly felt his chest rise and fall, felt his heart beating.

He tightened his arms around her. "No, I don't think you're mad." He took a deep breath.

"When I saw the battle was a trap, and I was the target, I was so angry. Angry that I'd been stupid enough to fall for it, when I knew something was wrong. Angry that I'd lose you. So I fought like a man possessed. I managed to kill almost every one of the bastards that had me surrounded. But one got lucky, slipped past my guard, and gutted me. I felt it go in, and knew it was bad. I knew I couldn't fight anymore, so I had to get away. I'd killed the man who stabbed me, but there were still more in the area, and they were looking for me. So I went into the forest. I was too badly wounded to cover my tracks, and I must have been bleeding badly enough to leave a trail even a child could find, but somehow I stumbled upon this cave and made it in without anyone finding me. I sat down and propped myself against the wall, trying to see if I could staunch my wound, when I saw a light come over the mouth of the cave. I had no idea what it was. I thought the loss of blood was causing illusions. Still, the light didn't fade, and I was worried if it was real it would lead my enemy to me. I could hear them right outside the cave, searching for me on foot. But because of the light, I couldn't see out. And apparently they couldn't see in, because they went right past the cave, as if it wasn't there."

"I was so relieved. But then I started to feel cold, and my vision was getting dim. I knew that even though I'd made it away from my enemies, I was dying. And I was scared. For you and Mordred. Who would protect you if I wasn't there? Then the light at the mouth of the cave flared, and I saw a woman with wings. And I heard her voice. 'Fear not.' At least I think that's what she said. I was losing consciousness. Next think I know, you're weighing down my chest like an anvil, and I couldn't figure out what was going on. But now I know."

Morgana felt his lips touch her hair. Dawn was just starting to thread its way into the wood, it's rosy half-light showing Merlin and the other knights making their way to the cave, shouting joyously as they finally spotted Morgana and Arthur in each other's arms.

"We've been given a miracle. Happy Christmas, Morgana."

Morgana looked up and kissed his glorious mouth.

"Happy Christmas, my heart. You know that all I ever want for Christmas….is you."


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